Shattered Souls Fix Broken Hearts
by xBayMax
Summary: "You must never, ever trust anyone of your relatives." But the small girl always replied, "Then why should I trust you, Mama?" The insane German woman responded, "See, you already get it." Shelby Schnee was a quiet girl. Daughter of Thanatos. She never knows, until a certain dream where she meets the 'Quiet Boy' but he doesn't meet her until much later... (After BoO) (Oc x Nico)
1. Chapter 1

Cold... It's how most stories start. What if you were told this one started with _fire?_ A lovely one too. burning wood, turning into charcoal and embers, a bonfire. Many gathered around it, lost souls. Gone forever, melted into the shadows like butter on a roll. But the ones standing closest to it were the most unusual. A woman, with dark eyes and tangled and frizzy blonde hair. Her skin was pale, her cheeks were hollow. She had a slack expression, forever drunk. The girl though, she was 3' 2" and about 5 years old. She had tangled obsidian hair, her silver eyes stared at the light with amazement. She reached out a chubby hand to touch it when there was a scream of petrifying agony, a scream so purposeful it was almost inspired. The small girl looked at the man, now dead, and said, "Hello."

This girl had met her father many times, but never knew exactly that was her father. Her mother crumbled to her knees, wrapping her bony arms around the child and stared above the body. "Leave! Do not touch my daughter you... You..." she let out a high pitched, frustrated, cracked from smoking, scream of emotional pain. The mother thought she saw the man she fell in love with, but was an illusion, she was looking in the wrong direction.

**-Nine years later-**

Three years, three forsaken years this 14 year old girl had gone with out the guidance of the mad woman. The one thing that child held close to her heart was stolen from her, by her own father. She had never known who her father was, but her mother always said, "Shelby, daughter... Listen to me. When I die it will be your father who kills me, you hear? _Verstehen sie_? Understand? He watches us every day... He is always there. You must never, ever trust anyone of your relatives." But the small girl always replied, "Then why should I trust you, Mama?"

The insane German woman responded, "You already understand."

The girl you could say resembled Snow White. Hair black as a ravens wing, skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and all the strength of a rose blooming in winter. The catch was, she was far from being this fairy-tale princess. Animals feared her and she radiated a feeling of hatred and being unwanted. Her soul was cracked. It was bruised and broken. No amount of duct tape could fix it. She sat on her knees at her mothers grave, "Mama... I don't trust grandmother... I can't... She is putting me in therapy. Please come back." she whispered and a single tear let go of her black eyelash, landing itself on the blades of grass. An old, wiry hand tapped her shoulder. "Shelby, _nach oben_. Up. We are leaving."

Shelby's silvery eyes looked at the grave once more, saying good bye and she walked with her grandmother to the old black car. A black curl fell into the teen's eye and her grandmother promptly tucked it behind her ear. "Shelby, you sloppy pig. It has been three years, and your mother was insane. _Holen Sie sich mehr als Sie Mutter_. Forget about your mother. You are my grand-baby now. _Verstehen sie_, understand?"

"Yes, _Nana_," Shelby said quietly, not making eye contact. Her Nana ushered her into the old car. Shelby sat in a seat and stared out the window. The graves and trees blurred past her as the vehicle drove down the black road. Soon they had reached the crowded street of 3rd Avenue, Brooklyn. Shelby had placed ear buds in her ears and played the various metal bands she loved ever since her mother introduced them to her. They eased her pain of nightmares. Every night the same horrific dream.

The car pulled over to the side of the street and let Shelby and her _Nana _out. Shelby looked at the building in front of her. It was cold, unwelcoming, brooding, and worst of all, looked like home.

Shelby sluggishly stepped up the stone staircase that consisted of a cheap rail and three steps up to the door. She pushed the door open and abandoned her grandmother there, taking her leave to her room. Her black dress twirled slightly as she walked, and her shoes went, clop, clop. She ditched them, to, on the stairs. She entered a room, bland and lacking of possessions. The air was unhealthily warm and she curled onto the simple black comforter, music blaring sadly into her ear drums. Her hair lay sprawled on her face and blanket and her feet barley hung over the bed. She stared at the small cotton fuzz balls, caught in the thin strands of the woven cloth.

She didn't leave that room for the rest of the night.

**-Same date. 11:21 p.m.-**

Shelby stood on the edge of an abyss that called her name. She longed to listen, but refused. Struggling for a way out, but no relief. She screamed, a voice of cracked rage, confusion, and frustration. The scene morphed into a cabin room. "We have no idea if this Satyr's claim is true. We cannot just send 2 demigods to go get a third." a woman wearing armor and a purple cloak said. Her hair was brunette and braided. In a sheath was her dagger and next to her were eight others. A Spanish boy with curly hair and tan skin, who was working on some sort of machine, a beautiful Native American girl with choppy hair and had it done in lovely feathers braids, a blonde american boy with a scar on his lip and electric blue eyes, a tan guy with black hair and sea green eyes who looked like a skater, a honey blonde girl with cold gray eyes staring down everyone in the room, a Chinese muscly kid who stood slightly protectively over and African American girl who had cinnamon curls and frightening golden eyes. But one of them always caught Shelby's attention in this dream. The quietest one. Pale skin, dark eyes, dark and curly hair, a few inches taller than her, and always wore a black shirt of some sort. He was usually silent, eyes lost in thought, or paying dead on attention, but never speaking up.

A man, no not a man,but not a horse either spoke up, "The gods made a promise, Reyna, that all demigods would be claimed by the age over 13. During the war against Gaea the gods forgot to claim their children leaving hundreds unclaimed and left for bait. She is one of the few we need to get to Camp Half-Blood soon." he told the woman in the cloak. Reyna responded, "Fine, but it's just a retrieval so sending one demigod would be a better choice."

"Vary well. Any volunteers?"

The blonde girl with gray eyes raised her hand, the skater boy held his palm in the air, the Chinese kid did, and so did the quiet one. "_Hmm, quiet boy volunteering. New," _Thought Shelby.

Then was a series of debates over who would go. Quiet boy was never mentioned until the Chinese kid, _(Frank, _Shelby remembered), said, "Did anyone not see Nico volunteer? I say he should go. He hasn't said a word."

_"So that's quiet boy's name. Nico. Hmm. Nice name, quiet boy." _Shelby thought s they agreed.

"So Mr. Di Angelo will go on a small quest to retrieve a demigod from Stonehearst Public Academy?" asked the horse-man. Everyone nodded in agreement. _"Wait. Stonehearst Public Academy? That's my school!" _Shelby yelled in her mind. "Hmm. See you soon Quiet Boy." the girl told Nico, who couldn't hear her.

**Okay, so that's all for now. Tell what you think in the reviews please and thank you for taking your time and reading this!**


	2. Awkwardness like Teargas

Three days. Three days until Shelby officially met the silent. It was at lunch, she was sitting with the limping kid and the quiet boy sat next to her. Shelby gave him her icy, silver, dagger like, glare and went back to surfing through her songs on her MP3 player. She couldn't hear a word exchanged between them over the loud music that all three of them could hear. Nico and the strange kid that always walks weird could faintly hear the music loud enough to make out the lyrics. It was I'm So Sick by Flyleaf. She was invisible to them, or so she thought. She thought she was unmemorable in her baggy black sweatshirt that read, "Take Me To Church, But Don't Let God Know What I've Done." and skinny jeans with a simple pair of blue and black high top sneakers. She felt a tap on her shoulder. She removed her ear buds and quiet boy said, "Uh, hi I'm-"

"I know who you are. You're Nico," She cut him off.

"How did you know that?" He asked, wary of her presence. He feared Grover might've been wrong. She could've been a monster.

"I have the same dream every night. You're in a room with eight or nine other people and the conversation is always different." She told him bluntly. He raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of creepy.."

"It's not my fault!" Shelby told him brushing some dark curls from her face. Her blood red lips pulled into a natural frown. Nico rolled his eyes and said, "Yet you won't introduce yourself."

"Shelby." she said, in an icy tone. Nico nodded. "Uh, that's Grover, by the way." he said and the curly haired kid waved. "Okay, well if you're talking to me you obviously want something." She said, crossing her arms.

Her mother always told her, "If some one talks to you it's only because they want something. Do _not _fall for their tricks." Angela Schnee told her daughter many things, gave her much advice, but Angela never ever learned to listen to herself.

Shelby's eyes glistened with a thin, thin sheet of salted water enveloped her silver irises at the thought of her dead, crazy mother. She blinked a few times, wiping the evidence of the tears.

"Uhh, I just need to tell you that all Greek/Roman myths are real, and so are the gods. You're a child of one of those gods, and uh we just need you to go to this camp during at least summers so that monsters are less likely to find you and all that jazz." A pause.

Grover spoke up. "You can't just say it! She probably thinks you're crazy now!"

"Never said I did. All my life I had seen strange things. My mother was the only one who believed me... But she was banana balls." she said staring at the plastic table. Silence. Shelby thought for a moment then said, "You know, thinking about it, it old shows and crap like 'The Jetsons' in the year 2015, they had flying cars and people living in space. Yes, I know it was a cartoon but about thirty years ago, people thought by this time, we'd have those things. Instead, we have: Selfies, rappers rapping about gang-raping and smoking pot, twerking, six-year-olds with iPhones, teenage girls wanting to have sex with CreepyPasta monsters, and thirteen-year-olds smoking pot. The only good thing to come from 2013-2015 is legalizing gay marriage. Our generation has failed. Miserably, too."

Awkward stares. Graver shrugged then and said, "True."

Shelby put her earbuds and decided that since she had to write a report over a book she had never read, (The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe) she would listen to her favorite you-tuber read it. She clicked on a file labeled, 'The Best fucking voice to ever exist' and listened to Cryaotic read the book. She sighed. The heavy awkwardness filled the air like someone had just thrown a punctured teargas container. She found no use in listening, but it was better than saying she hadn't heard a word from the book. Her eyes shut as the bell let out the horrendous ring that caused chaos. She stood up and left for her 5th block class, mapping out how to convince her Nana to take her to this stupid camp that would release her from the paranoid ancient German woman's grip.

**Okay, so this is incredibly short and I am sorry for that. I promise I will make up forth anyway I can in the next chapter. PLEASE review, it's much appreciated! **


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